Andy was too tired to stay awake over this problem when he located the clown’s new quarters.  Before he retired, however, he got word to the circus manager that Jim Tapp was evidently following the circus, and had been seen in Tipton that very evening.

The next morning Andy was too busy to give the matter of his aunt’s near proximity much thought.  He worked with a gang hoisting the main tent until nearly noon.

“Hi, Wildwood!” hailed a friendly voice, as Andy was leaving the cook’s tent an hour later.

The speaker was Marco.  He made a few inquiries as to how Andy was getting along.  Then he said:  “I saw Miss Stella Starr this morning.  You know the manager, of course?”

“Mr. Scripps—­yes,” nodded Andy.

“Well, about two o’clock they’re going to line up the amateurs in the performance tent.  You be there.”

“All right,” said Andy.

“Benares and Thacher will be on hand.  You’ll see some fun.  Afterwards they’ll put you through some stunts in dead earnest.  It’s your chance to get in on the tumbling act.  Would you like that?”

“I should say so—­if I can do it good enough.”

“Well, try, anyhow.  If you’re not up to average, Benares will train you.  He’s taken a fancy to you, and he’ll help you along.  Some of the tumblers leave us here, and they’re shy on a full number.  If they take you, stick hard for ten dollars.”

“A month?” said Andy.

“No, a week.”

“Gracious!” exclaimed Andy, “that’s too good to come out true.”

“Stick and strive, Wildwood—­the motto will win,” declared Marco.

When Andy went to the performers’ tent at two o’clock, he found over fifty persons there.  In its centre a balancing bar had been put up.  An old circus horse stood at one side.  Some low trapezes were swung from a post.  A number of the circus people were lounging on benches in one corner of the tent.  In another corner on other benches some twenty persons, mostly boys, were gathered.

“Here, you’re not on show yet,” spoke Benares, the trapezist, pulling Andy beside him as he passed along.  “Your turn will come after they get rid of those aspirants yonder.”

CHAPTER XXI

A FULL-FLEDGED ACROBAT

The circus manager sat in a chair at the edge of a little sawdust ring that had been marked out for the occasion.  The ringmaster stood near him, in charge of the ceremonies.

“Now, then, my friends,” observed this individual in a sharp, snappy way, “you people want a chance to get on as performers.  That’s good.  We are always looking for fresh talent.  Show your paces.  Who’s first?”

A big, loutish fellow with an ungainly walk stepped forward.  He was wrapped up in a tarpaulin.  As he let it drop it was like a transformation scene.

It seemed that some of the mischievous candy peddlers had got hold of him.  They had induced him to appear for trial in costume.